


Deadlock

by kaebee



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn, Team as Family, inspired by killing eve before ke got a little shitty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-07-31 18:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaebee/pseuds/kaebee
Summary: This has been their lives for years now. Contract killing isn’t exactly something a kid plans on growing into, but hopping from one foster family to another, Taako’s useful skills and qualifications were always limited. Magic, though, came easy to him. He poured everything into self-teaching, making himself valuable with common little tricks like basic transmutation and levitation. Nothing remarkable compared to more traditionally schooled magic users, but he made it work for him. It was his sister Lup’s talents that caught the attention of the wrong kind of people.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> rating and tags subject to change
> 
> previously called "you'll be the death of me"... I took the original down because I needed to take care of some issues, hopefully it's back for good though!

****

If there's anything Taako hates more than lookout duty, it's lookout duty on damp, bleak nights like this one. He huddles in his fur coat and glowers sullenly across the street at a dingy hotel. The green awning above the door offers barely any shelter in front of a narrow doorway, its yellow light flickering in what he's trying to deduce as a pattern. Probably the most unwelcoming hotel mortal beings have ever witnessed, which is only compounded by the half-hearted drip of rain and the smear of fog across the ground. At least the weather has dissuaded most of the city from loitering outside. He'll never complain about fewer potential witnesses.

Above the background noise of drizzle and the occasional car on other, better lit streets, he picks up the crash of a door thrown open just around the corner. Taako straightens out of his slouch, rolls his shoulders, and strolls across the street. Showtime.

An alley separates the hotel and its neighboring restaurant, where they line dumpsters and recycle bins. Once he gets closer he catches sight of movement within the veil of the alley's shadows, which clarifies into a figure who pauses, sees Taako, and ducks back around the corner to weave behind the restaurant.

“Fuck!” Taako hates running almost as much as lookout duty. He sprints to get the man back into view, producing his wand from its strap against his thigh. He hisses a brief incantation under his breath, drawing arcane energy out of the atmosphere and into himself, directing it back out through the wand. Taako’s aim has never been the best; instead of in the middle of his back, the shot hits him in his right thigh. With a cry, he goes down.

His voice cracks when he speaks, strangled by the pain of raw magic power lacing through his leg. He’s barefoot, clad only in plaid pajama bottoms and a white undershirt. Where in the hell did he think he could go? “Wait! Wait!” Taako keeps approaching, grateful for an easy point-blank shot. “I’ll pay twice what the Avarice are giving you, please.”

Taako pauses. The promise of money is definitely tempting - in fact, had he spoken any other name, Taako would agree without hesitation. But... “What do you know about the Avarice?” He lowers his wand.

The man darts his tongue over his lips, eyes flicking wildly past Taako. Taako doesn’t follow his gaze, even though he can hear people coming up from behind; from the heaviness of the footsteps and the voice grumbling under breath, he knows they aren’t a threat to him. His bumbling dumbass partners have finally caught up. “They didn’t send you?”

“Guess you’ve pissed off a lot more people than you knew,” Magnus snorts from where he’s come to a stop behind Taako, sounding slightly winded.

“What,” Taako repeats, with a sharpened edge, “Do you know about the Avarice?”

His gaze jumps back to Taako. “They-- I’m not-- I was just supposed to go meet their contact in Goldcliff a few days ago, give them a list of, of weak spots in some security measures. I haven’t done anything wrong, please!”

Merle mutters something sarcastic, but Taako pays no attention to him. “Where were you going to meet? Who was their contact?”

“There’s a… There’s a mechanic shop, one of their fronts I guess. They gave me the name Marvy, that’s all I know.” He swallows, scooting a little further away. “Please, I’ve got a family, I won’t tell anyone anything--”

The arcane energy Taako directs at his chest is nearly invisible to the naked eye, just a slight waver in the air before ice spontaneously forms inside his rib cage, freezing his heart and lungs in a split second. He wheezes, his breath contracting in the cold, and he collapses. In the dark, frost twinkles across the front of his shirt.

Taako turns to the man and dwarf behind him. “Could you have done a worse job?” Magnus’ eyes are glued to the body sprawled in front of them. Taako taps his arm and indicates with his head back toward the street. Someone undoubtedly heard the ruckus, they need to make themselves scarce.

Merle harrumphs and pulls the hood of his parka up over his head, though his scraggly beard still juts out and down his chest. “Easy for you to say, just standing out here looking pretty. You nearly let him slip past you too, y’know.”

Magnus grimaces but says nothing, only stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and lengthens his stride to walk a few feet ahead of them. Easy for him to do, when his legs are twice the length of Merle's, and Taako doesn't care to keep up. The subject of targets' families always makes him moody, like if he doesn't think about it he can pretend not everyone has a family. “Whatever. As long as you dipshits didn't get noticed.”

“What kind of distraction man do you think I am?” Merle protests. Taako levels a dry look down at him.

“Last time you caused a distraction, you nearly got arrested for public indecency,  _ and _ they made you pay for new shrubbery.”

“Ah, but nobody noticed the dude getting whacked.” Taako snorts at Merle's defense, and Merle chortles over his supposed victory.

They walk half a mile north before hopping on a bus headed south, traveling the rest of the night in relative silence. Taako always keeps an eye out, wary of anyone tailing them or even paying them more mind than they should, but it's a quiet night. The only other people on the bus are a half-asleep gnome and a group of giggling 20-somethings out doing gods-know-what young people do nowadays. Taako indulges in a fleeting moment of jealousy for their youth and vigor.

The bus stop where they get off is only a few minutes from their motel, which is painted a dull orange and has a neon sign advertising that they have TV that must have been erected some thirty-odd years ago. The lobby is, inexplicably, viking-themed. But the most important feature of the sleepy dated motel is that the attendant had just sighed and accepted it without question when they paid for five days' stay in cash.

The three of them trudge up the weathered metal staircase to the second floor. As usual, Magnus rushes to go inside first, sweeping it for intruders while Taako and Merle enter behind him at a more sedate pace. They'd gotten ambushed once, and Magnus never let them forget it.

Taako releases his most dramatic sigh as he rolls his coat off his shoulders. “Just another day at the office, eh?”

Magnus spares him a brief and weary smile before heading into the shower. Merle chortles under his breath and turns on the TV. Taako sighs again, quietly, more earnestly, to himself.

This has been their lives for years now. Contract killing isn’t exactly something a kid plans on growing into, but hopping from one foster family to another, Taako’s useful skills and qualifications were always limited. Magic, though, came easy to him. He poured everything into self-teaching, making himself valuable with common little tricks like basic transmutation and levitation. Nothing remarkable compared to more traditionally schooled magic users, but he made it work for him. It was his sister Lup’s talents that caught the attention of the wrong kind of people.

They started small, little more than magic-wielding thugs, but they worked their way up until Lucretia, Davenport, and the others found them and thought they had potential for work with a bit more finesse and higher stakes.

Magnus and Merle showed up not long after. He never asked either of them how they got into this line of work, and they never shared. Everyone they know has their own demons that drove them here, and that means more than what faces the demons wear. As long as Magnus swings his blades and Merle backs them up with his own use of arcane force, he won’t ask questions.

Then Lup left. He tries not to think about it, before he can spiral back into the anger and apathy that took him over after her disappearance. He doesn’t know much about the group that calls themselves the Avarice except that they stole her away from him, and now that he has a lead, he will tear them apart to find her again.

Taako pulls up his phone’s most recent contacts. Lucretia frowns up at him from her photo near the top of the list. It only rings once before she answers with a, “Good evening. I take it everything went well?”

“Did you know he had connections to the Avarice?” Taako demands.

She pauses for a few seconds before answering. “I'm sorry, Taako, I meant to tell you afterwards. I didn’t want it to affect your performance tonight.” Lucretia's voice crackles in his ear, her even-keeled tone fuzzy with static. “There wasn’t much to go on, but I did look into it, I promise.” She inhales, gathering herself. “She’s been on the move. It’s possible she was, in fact, in Goldcliff a few days ago.”

His breath turns to glue in his throat, threatening to choke him. “Do you know if she's still there?” He's already on his feet, stuffing stray clothing and toiletries into his suitcase. His two companions watch him with a grave understanding.

“We don't, which means she probably isn't. Taako, please, don't go running off just yet--”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I’ll just sit on my butt while the first lead in months on my  _ fucking sister  _ goes cold.” Taako squeezes his phone between his chin and shoulder so he can use both hands to shove his suitcase shut and zip it up. “I’m getting on the next train to Goldcliff and can be there in three hours.”

“Okay.” From the mild acceptance in her voice, Lucretia never expected to dissuade him in the first place, and couldn’t bring herself to put up a strong argument. Taako isn’t the only one who’s sore from the Lup-shaped void in their lives. “What exactly did he say?” He summarizes as best he can. “I’ll find out what I can. Keep in touch with any updates.”

Taako nods, then adds, “Cool.” Lucretia says good-bye and hangs up, which leaves Taako to face the others. Merle is in the midst of griping about “no rest for the wicked” while Magnus packs. In spite of himself, Taako is relieved that they decide to tag along before he can insist they don’t. He appreciates their backup, far more than he would ever let on. Not so long ago, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone besides Lup to have his back, but the past few years he’s been through hell and back with Merle and Magnus as his team.

It’s amazing how much bonding you can do when you’re committing murders together.

“The next train to Goldcliff is leaving in less than an hour.” Magnus thumbs through a list of departures on his phone screen. “Think we can make that?”

“If we run.” Taako tosses a handful of cash onto the bed as a tip for housekeeping and leads the way out the door.

“I don’t run, I waddle,” Merle moans from behind Magnus. Magnus holds the elevator door for him, despite Taako prodding him to just leave Merle behind.

They check out and call a cab to the station, barely able to cram all their luggage and themselves into the black-and-yellow minivan that pulled up to collect them. Taako leans his forehead against the window as they pull onto wider roads and pick up speed, the smear of urban nightlife flashing past. It’s not a particularly glamorous city, not much to differentiate it from any other city, and Taako is too lost in his own head to remember anything of the drive.

Every once in a while, he starts to lose hope that he’ll ever find his twin. She’s been running from him for six years, as good at evading him as he is at tracking her. They each know how the other ticks too well. But if he gives up on seeing her again, what then? What kind of life is left for half of a pair, part of a whole, an “and” with no second item on the list? Not the kind of life he’d like to spend time imagining.

They arrive at the train station, buy tickets, and board without a minute to spare. As soon as they’re seated, Taako slumps into the uncomfortable booth and makes another call -- he’s going to need all the help he can get, so it’s time to call in a few favors.

After that, he dozes in and out for the rest of the trip, restless but bored, until Magnus nudges him awake and murmurs, “Five minutes.” Taako wipes drool off his chin, yawns, and stretches his arms over his head. Merle doesn’t look up from the leatherbound religious text open in his lap until the train comes to a stop; only then does he bookmark it, and they shuffle out with the rest of the passengers.

The Goldcliff station is all concrete, glass, and stainless steel, trying to be minimalist and modern, but it’s too brutal and glaring to Taako’s bleary eyes. Outside, at least, the early morning light filters through manicured trees and diffuses over wide streets and stately brick buildings. The air tastes rich and earthy in the arid climate, before the sun has baked everything it can reach and the street races have thrown around enough dust to coat the whole city. This is the kind of place Taako could luxuriate in, if he wasn’t only ever here for business.

A souped-up SUV waiting against the curb rumbles nearly as loud as the trains in the station, and honks twice when they emerge. Hardly subtle, but none of the three of them will complain about a little ostentation every now and then. They hustle over, throw luggage in the trunk, and pile in.

“Morning, boys,” Hurley crows from the driver’s seat, way too perky for so early in the morning. Her seat is raised as high as it can go and the pedals are outfitted with extensions for her halfling stature. Her round face piled with hot pink curls beams at them from the rearview mirror.

Sloane, in the passenger side, twists around to see them. “Breakfast before the safe house?”

“Yes, please,” Magnus says dramatically.

Hurley laughs and steers them through a drive-thru to fill the car with greasy hash browns and pancakes. Once the three of them have their hands and mouths full with food, Hurley fills them in on what she and Sloane dug up so far. “It wasn’t hard to find a Marvy connected to local mechanics. He runs with a gang of street racers that call themselves the Hammerheads. The garage he works at is something of a headquarters for them.” Sloane holds up a file folder, and Taako wipes his fingers off on a napkin before grabbing it. The folder contains police reports, rap sheets, and mug shots, along with photos from security footage of the garage.

One of the photos shows a figure ducking into the front door. It’s blurry and at an awkward angle, but the shape of her still lodges a hot coal in Taako’s throat. It’s  _ Lup _ . Sloane, who is watching him with a considering look in her eyes, says, “Those are from several weeks ago. It seems like she was in or around there a lot for a day or two, then she dropped off the radar again.”

“I’m going in there.” Taako doesn’t pull his eyes away from Lup, half-turned in the doorway to check over her shoulder. He can almost see her face, just the bridge of her nose and the corner of her eye. He wants to yell, to cry for her to look just a little bit further so he can see her fully, but she wouldn’t listen to him.

Sloane smiles. “That’s what we thought you’d say. Which is why we’ve got the building’s floor plans in there, too.”

Taako flips through until he finds it. “Oh, I could kiss you right now.” The shopfront, big enough to be a large waiting room and a series of staff rooms, hangs off the short end of an L-shaped garage. That’s probably where the offices are, or wherever they might hold private meetings and store important information.

“You’d better not.” Hurley reaches for Sloane’s hand over the console and squeezes it as they pull up to the safe house. It hunches in the middle of a residential neighborhood that has been left forgotten by the city’s overall wealth and luxury, not far from where Sloane and Hurley’s garage is. But it’s comfortable and off the radar, so it suits them just fine. She shuts the car off, but doesn’t climb out of the car before saying, “Look, getting in there won’t be easy. Even after the shop closes, there’s almost always people hanging around the garage.”

Merle chuckles. “Ha, that isn’t usually a problem for us.” Taako rolls his eyes at the boast, but he has a point. They make a living of getting people out of the way.

They file out of the SUV and drag their belongings inside, and only when the door is shut behind them does Taako resume their discussion. “Do you know how often the man Marvy himself is there?”

Hurley shrugs one shoulder. “Hard to say exactly. A lot, I’d guess.” Taako frowns, but he’ll have to accept that answer for now. If he doesn’t find what he needs in the garage, he’ll just have to hunt Marvy down and get it that way. She sighs, sensing his dissatisfaction. “We could study his habits, get more information, if we had more time. But that could take weeks.”

“No, we don’t have that kind of time. I’m going tonight.” It will take all of his restraint and patience to wait even that long, but going during daylight hours would be disastrous, even he knows that much.

Magnus lays his hand on Taako’s shoulder. “ _ We’re _ going tonight,” he corrects.

Hurley just nods and takes the folder of intel from Taako, pulling out the floor map. “Then you’re going to need a plan, and some gear.” She grins. “Why don’t we go over some ideas that we had?”

* * *

The alley crawls with nearly a dozen police officers in and out of uniform, squeezing around each other in the limited space. The ambulance, which had arrived on scene shortly after the first police cars, idles at the curb while EMTs wrangle the body onto a stretcher. The whole scene is discordant and disorienting enough that few people stop to wonder about the sleek black sedan that pulls up and lets out a man dressed in a suit as sharp as his vehicle. He swings his leg up over the police tape and cuts through the bustle with long strides.

Through it all, despite all the activity, a bittersweet smell still lingers in the air, almost like the ozone after a storm but more cloying. It’s a telltale sign of magic in the past hour or two, and judging from how strong it still is, more magic than most people can summon up and control. Enough magic to kill.

He eyes the scene where evidence markers and huge lights circle the place where the body must have been found, a photographer showing his camera to a couple detectives. He doesn’t need a closer look at the exact spot the man died -- he already knows everything he needs to on that front.

Instead, he circles the building to find the back door, which the police have propped open for ease of access. Slipping in is so easy he’d almost be worried, if it didn’t make his job a lot simpler. Then finding the right hotel room is mostly just a matter of following the glances of curious onlookers and concerned hotel staff.

A police officer in front of the door does stop him from entering the room. “Sorry, sir, I can’t let anyone in.”

A toothy smile cuts across the man’s face. He reaches beneath his collar to produce a carved obsidian emblem tied on a leather cord. He doesn’t want it to wrinkle his cravat, so he tucks it back under his shirt once he’s gotten a good look. “Oh, I think you can make an exception. I am here on the Raven Queen’s behalf.” That cracks the officer’s resolve, and with a quick “excuse me a minute” he ducks inside. After a moment’s wait, a detective steps out, and he thrusts a hand toward her. “I trust you were told why I’m here. You can call me Kravitz.”

She frowns at him but shakes his hand and leads him into the room. “With all due respect, I don’t think we’ve found anything your organization would be interested in, Mr. Kravitz. Our victim was a half-elf in his early 40’s, a building inspector for an architecture firm, there’s nothing to suggest he could have been involved in… in the kind of problems you deal with.”

Kravitz nods and lets her go on, though she clearly knows nothing of the kind of cases he pursues. “There rarely is,” he points out as he passes through the room. It’s a modest hotel room, small but clean, with only a few personal effects lying around to suggest anyone stayed here until recently. A change of clothes rumpled on the floor, a few hygiene products scattered over the bathroom counter. Finally, he turns his attention to a cardboard box, which a couple officers have been bagging and packing evidence into. Included in the box are dozens of papers, journals, and letters.

The local police will dive into these, looking for clues about how and why he was murdered. This man’s death does not concern Kravitz, however. What catches his attention is a single, unmarked ticket for a train trip scheduled for two days past. He considers it for a moment before he puts it back, straightens his suit jacket, and turns to the detective. “Thank you for your time. Best of luck with your investigation.”

“That’s it?” She scoffs. He shrugs and makes his exit. “Well, thanks for your help!”

He lets the door close on her anger. Worrying about impeding investigations or pissing off local detectives isn’t his problem. What is his problem is that someone with Avarice connections skipped out on a planned trip and wound up dead two days later; it’s time to find out who or what had been waiting in Goldcliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading -- come talk to me on [tumblr](https://unaccepted-pylades.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/geckosnack)!


	2. Chapter 2

Magnus and Merle catch some sleep while they can, but Taako spends most of their downtime pacing or reciting spell formulas and incantations to himself. He tried to sleep, briefly, but his own mind threatened to drive him mad with a whirlwind of thoughts and hopes and fears. An ordinary job doesn’t break his stride like this, but all efforts to convince himself this is just like an ordinary job prove fruitless.

Eventually, finally, the sun sets, and the night settles deep over the lively city. Not until after midnight do they rouse and prepare themselves. Taako dresses in skinny jeans and a deep V-neck under a light jacket; nothing flashy or flowy, but like hell was he going to go full black like some kind of dramatic movie criminal -- which is precisely what Magnus always does. His wand he slips into the custom loop he has stitched into his belt, and a handgun that can fit in his palm goes in his pocket. Never know when you won’t be able to rely on magic to get you out of a scrape.

He joins Magnus, Merle, and Sloane in the entryway. Hurley will stay behind. Any of them getting caught by authorities would be bad; Hurley getting caught by her fellow police would be much worse.

Magnus calls shotgun, grinning in triumph like a child, so Taako and Merle take the back. The ten-minute drive passes in relative silence, with only the minimal amount of jibes and banter, and Sloane parks three blocks away and around the corner to stay out of sight. "I'll wait here for forty minutes. Don't come straight here if there's a chance you're followed."

"Thanks." Magnus claps her on the shoulder before turning to grin at the pair in the backseat. "Let's go, boys."

Their target, an auto body shop, sits off an old side street close to the highway, afloat in its own wide parking lot that doesn’t provide much cover coming directly up to the front. One of the three broad garage doors still stands open, white fluorescent light spilling out onto the pavement. As Hurley warned, rough laughter and loud conversation give away at least three or four different people just beyond the line of sight.

They come toward it from the west, approaching from behind and coming around to the side. Darkness veils the storefront entrance, but somewhere deeper within a yellow light barely reaches out around the corner of a hallway. Someone must be inside, too, on top of the group in the garage. Taako, readying his wand, motions to the front door. Might as well make the best of the element of surprise while they still have it.

They leave their cover to hug the brick wall on the opposite side of the building to the garage, and Magnus ducks hunched over to check the door. It’s locked, and he pulls a small tool pouch out of his pants pocket to retrieve his lockpicks. Taako peers around the corner to watch him, bouncing on his heels with impatience, while Merle moves a little further forward to keep watch on the garage and make sure no one gets the jump on them.

Magnus whispers a satisfied “ha” when the lock clicks, easing the door open. He files in and holds the door open for Merle and Taako to hustle in after him. They find themselves in a small waiting room, a television hanging over one corner with a wheeled table for coffee and water beneath it. There’s a closed door behind the desk and a hallway kitty-corner from the entrance. Taako wrinkles his nose against the rubber and stale popcorn smell of the room.

The three of them have been working contracts together for a long time now, and without discussion they fall into their usual comfortable routine. Magnus takes the lead, a pistol in hand as he checks the door behind the counter -- just a storage closet -- and continues down the hall. Merle follows close behind him and covers Magnus as he opens each door they find and checks it for any Hammerheads, and Taako takes up the rear and ensures they have a clear escape route. It’s a dynamic that came naturally from the very beginning and has served them well on even the most dangerous and unlikely jobs.

They encounter no one else before they reach a bend in the hall. In the middle of the back wall, a door stands open from which the only indoor light shines out, and at the end of the hallway is a door that leads out into the garage, if Hurley’s blueprints were accurate.

Magnus presses his back to the wall next to the open doorway, Merle crouches against the corner of the hall for a little cover, and Taako lingers out of sight of the door with his wand raised. For the span of a single inhalation, they pause to ready themselves.

Then Magnus steps through with his pistol raised. “Don’t move,” he says in a deadly calm voice that he only ever effects on jobs. Taako hears a chair get shoved back accompanied by a “What the hell!” in a heavily accented voice. “Keep your hands where I can see them.” A brief silence punctuates Magnus’ voice before he calls, “All right, come on.”

A broad-shouldered man with a shaved head sits at a desk inside, staring daggers at them. Taako recognizes him from the mug shots Hurley gave them -- Marvy. He has a square face, and tattoos peek out from beneath his stained wife-beater. The office looks like an average, boring office, complete with generic landscape photography on the walls, but Taako has seen enough of offices like these to know even the most mundane of them can contain all sorts of illicit material.

“What do you fuckers want?” Marvy demands, looking more frustrated than scared at being on the business end of Magnus’ pistol.

Even as Taako steps up next to Magnus, Merle starts rifling through file cabinets and drawers in search of helpful information. “You work for the Avarice Gang, right? You were supposed to meet someone coming in from town a couple days ago?”

Marvy’s frown loses its angry edge as he focuses on Taako, his brow furrowing as he realizes this is more than a stick-up. “Yeah? What of it?” He lifts his chin, eyes narrowing. “Do I know you?”

Maybe, in a manner of speaking. “Have you met someone from the Avarice who looks like me? Her hair’s a little longer, wears a lot of black and red?”

The recognition in Marvy’s eyes is enough for Taako even before he answers. His heart slams against his ribs. He’s seen Lup, _ he knows about Lup _. “Oh, shit, yeah. They’ve sent her around here a couple times before.” Then he abruptly claps his mouth shut, probably realizing he’s shared more than he’s supposed to.

Shutting up is exactly what Taako doesn’t want him to do. He steps forward, gripping so tight on his wand it shakes as he lifts it to point at Marvy’s face. “Where does she come from? Is she alone or with someone?”

He shakes his head, almost desperate. “I don’t know nothing else about her, man.”

Taako is sick and tired of knowing nothing, getting nowhere. Marvy has to know more than he’s letting on; he wouldn’t have been the point of contact for an outsider if he wasn’t a trusted member. “Then how long ago was she here last?” Taako’s demand vibrates with the urge to scream.

“I don’t know, a month, maybe two.”

Taako curls his lip in a sneer, all manner of colorful threats dancing on his tongue. “Why was she--”

Then a glass-shattering crash resounds from the waiting room.

The three of them have a split second to exchange wide-eyed glances before Marvy throws himself at Magnus, taking advantage of their distraction. They tousle, but Taako doesn’t see exactly what happens next; Magnus can handle that, so he hurries back through the door to check out the noise.

A figure steps into the indirect light in the hallway, shadows hanging across his face like the darkness is reluctant to release him. But Taako can still make out the most expensive-looking black satin suit he’s ever seen, cheekbones and a jawline like razor blades, and eyes the deep color of drying blood that regard Taako with an air of disdainful surprise.

Taako lifts his wand, magic leaping to respond to his panic, and a blast sears through the air. The stranger lifts his hand, spreading fingers that are all weighted with rings, and the energy… fizzles. Weakly splatters against his palm with a fraction of the force it should have. Taako wheels backward a single step in his shock. “What the fuck!”

The man looks at his own hand and frowns, the terrifying blank mask of indifference melting into frustration. What should have blasted him off his feet only scraped his palm raw. “It’s you, isn’t it?” he says, looking back up at Taako, and before Taako can wonder what the hell he’s talking about, he’s lifting a gun with his other hand and aiming right at him.

“Fuck! Shit!” Taako squawks. He turns and throws himself around the crook in the hallway as a gunshot explodes behind him, chunks of drywall skittering over the floor. Magnus has Marvy under control, but once he sees Taako retreating he looks up, echoes one of Taako’s expletives, and calls Merle’s name. Merle steps up and fires twice. The suited man ducks into another doorway to take cover.

There’s not enough space for all four of them to maneuver, plus whoever the hell it is halfway up the hall patiently waiting for his chance to shoot Taako dead. Not to mention the goons in the garage definitely heard the gunshots, so they’re about to be disastrously outnumbered.

“Abort!” Merle calls. Magnus kicks Marvy away to send him crashing against his desk and backs out of the office.

Merle slams the door into the garage open. Sure enough, five men inside in coveralls or dirty jeans are in various stages of grabbing heavy tools and heading toward the door. Even before Merle turned the knob Taako was halfway through gathering a spell, so by the time the door is open, he’s hurling magic. It hisses and sparks seconds before hitting the nearest thug and exploding. He staggers back, his shirt catching fire, and screams. Two of his buddies rush to try to put out the flames. The other two hesitate long enough to give Merle and Magnus time to run in and weave behind one of two muscle cars, making for the garage door.

Taako spares a final glance back. Marvy had been his chance to figure out where Lup has gone and what she's trying to do. They came so close, _ so fucking close _, but this random suitted asshat had ruined everything, and now what shot does he have?

He snarls to himself in frustration and runs to catch up with his partners. One of the Hammerheads had run to a workbench and now pulls out from beneath it -- holy shit -- a sawed-off shotgun that he levels in their direction.

Merle yells a protective spell and the grapeshot spatters around them, peppering the car and the concrete floor with dozens of little punctures. Magnus whirls around to return fire, covering for Taako and Merle to make a dash out into the safety of darkness.

Nobody chases after them outside the garage. They run the opposite direction they’d come until they reach a main stretch of road where a few innocent bystanders still huddle under the shelter of bright streetlights, smoking or waiting for their rides, oblivious to the violence in their city. The night is cool and quiet, preserved in a bubble of ignorant bliss. In this corner of neighborhood, it’s hard to imagine a world where people get shot at or set on fire on the daily. When a siren wails in the distance, only the three of them tense up; to anyone else, it’s just someone else’s problem.

The trio slow down to a spirited walk along a row of boutique and gift shops, a window shopper’s delight during the day, but now it’s a ghost town. Taako checks over his shoulder, but no one seems to have tailed them this far, so they circle back around to head in the direction of Sloane’s car.

Finally it seems safe enough for Magnus to mutter, “What in the hell was that?” 

Merle cocks an eyebrow up at Taako. “Did you know that guy?”

Taako scoffs. “I’ve never seen him in my entire life.”

“Well, he thought he knew you.”

Taako rubs a hand over his face with a groan. “Fuck if I know what his deal was! Some rich douche getting revenge because his Porsche got scuffed, it doesn’t matter! What matters is we don’t have shit on where Lup is or where she might be going, this was a total waste of time.”

“We’ll find her, Taako,” Magnus soothes, though he doesn’t touch Taako in the way he likes to comfort people. Taako is grateful. “This won’t be the only lead, we’ll keep looking.”

He knows Magnus is right, and the Avarice Gang is powerful and expansive enough that they just have to keep looking for more connections and new lines, they’re not going to slip away from Taako’s grasp overnight. But this chance was the first in months, and it had been random happenstance. Who knows how much longer he’ll look until it proves worthwhile?

Taako tucks his wand away and shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Hey, who needs a burger? I bet we can get Sloane to stop for burgers on the way back.” If there’s anything he needs right now, it’s some good old-fashioned comfort food, the greasier the better. Finely crafted meals would only make him feel homesick.

* * *

That was extremely unexpected.

Kravitz stands from his crouch and brushes wrinkles off his jacket, settling himself. They must have sent their goons after Marvy once they realized they had loose ends to tie off. Well, all the better for him having gotten here when he did, after they’d weakened the Hammerheads’ defenses but before they could finish the job.

What really concerns him is how strong their wizard is. His palm still stings from whatever spell they’d slung at Kravitz. Few people are capable of manipulating magic forces with such intensity that it could punch through the absorption and deflection charms on his rings the way they had. He can’t underestimate them a second time.

Around the corner from where Kravitz stands, he can hear Marvy bossing around whichever Hammerheads still hang around. There are wounds to address, from the sound of it, and cleanup to begin. If any neighbors have alerted the authorities, they could arrive all too soon, and the Hammerheads surely don’t want the police sniffing around too hard.

Kravitz strolls through the door and down the hallway from where he’d been pinned, the smell of magic stifling in the confined space. It nauseates him, but he focuses on the job at hand to push past it. Marvy and another man are in his office, hurriedly tidying paper and straightening furniture. Idly, Kravitz wonders how they plan to cover up the stray bullet holes in the walls.

He lifts his gun and shoots the back of the second man’s head before they’ve even noticed him. Marvy spins around, half-falling. “For fuck’s sake! What the hell is with all you people?” he snarls, trying to sound intimidating. His voice is a pitch higher than it had been a few minutes ago, though.

“Just doing my job, same as you, mate.” Kravitz shrugs. He doublechecks the photo pulled up on his phone; the leering mugshot is definitely the same man standing in front of him. “Marvy, right? You’ve been on the Avarice’s payroll for some years now. I don’t suppose you could make this easy and just tell me what they’re planning?”

Marvy barks a laugh at him. “Something too big for you to stop now. Go ahead and kill me, it won’t change noth--” Kravitz shoots him in the chest before his rant can pick up steam. He probably wasn’t going to say anything worth listening to.

One of Marvy’s lackeys charges through the door, valiantly responding to the first gunshot, but Kravitz hears their pounding footsteps coming and dispatches them before they can get close enough to swing the tire iron in their hands.

The remaining few Hammerheads Kravitz finds in the garage, trying to soothe the charred burns on one man’s chest as he lies unconscious on the floor. By flicking his fingers just so, Kravitz releases the burst of arcanity that his rings absorbed from the wizard’s spell mere minutes ago. The rings always itch when they absorb so much magic, and it’s a relief to get rid of it.

After a second has passed and he’s sure no one will be getting back up anytime soon, Kravitz sighs and returns to the office. He recovers Marvy’s cell phone and a laptop without much trouble. There is plenty more to go through, and he would take it all to analyze and catalogue if he could, but he would rather already be gone by the time the cops show up. Dealing with them would be too much of a hassle. His supervisor will sort out the fallout of explanations and such bureaucracy later.

Tucking Marvy’s phone in his pocket and the laptop under his arm, he makes his way out through the waiting room. and finds the front door has been left unlocked -- probably by those who’d broken in before him. He hadn’t needed to break the window. Oh, well. As he walks back to his rental car, he makes a call.

“This is Kravitz,” he says as soon as the call goes through, and continues without preamble, “Just wrapping things up in Goldcliff.” He sets the laptop on the passenger seat and buckles in, unconcerned with the squad cars blaring up the street. “But there were three unknowns who were here, they went southeast from the mechanics’. A human, a dwarf, and an elf. I’d like to get eyes on them if possible. I don’t want them complicating anything further.”

He should be pleased with how things went; it was overall a clean and efficient job. He hadn’t actually expected to get any useful information out of the Hammerheads’ ringleader, and they were sure to find something good among the communication or files stored in what he’d taken.

But… these three new people are wild cards, variables he’s not sure how to predict yet. He’d seen little hints and clues to the wizard’s involvement, but now it is concrete. They must work fast, if they’d managed to beat him here, and he’s already discovered firsthand they are powerful. He has a creeping feeling that they’re going to be thorns in his side if he doesn’t neutralize the problem sooner rather than later. He starts the car and slips quietly away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading -- come talk to me on [tumblr](https://unaccepted-pylades.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/geckosnack)!


	3. Chapter 3

By the time they drag their feet through the door of the safe house, the first hints of morning have cracked through the darkness. A soft haze of light peeks over the horizon, and birds are waking up and tittering amongst each other. Within the next hour, the sun will rise from beneath the cliff for which the city is named, washing the surrounding dusty scrubland in orange and gold. The sight of it has drawn tourists and sightseers from all across the country for decades, who all bask in the glow of the dawn and for a moment feel peace and communion with the natural world.

Taako resents it. It’s too serene for his sour mood. He scuffs his foot against the doorframe in a half-hearted kick as he steps through, and Sloane shuts the door behind them.

“Welcome back.” A familiar grave voice greets them. Lucretia steps into view, a steaming mug cupped in both hands.

Magnus stands up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“Lucretia!” Merle greets in return at the same time.

Lucretia’s dark eyes slide over to Taako, then back to Magnus. “I thought it would be wise to come see how the night went in person, given the… personal nature of your activities.”

“You wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to bring the whole place down to the ground, you mean,” Taako mutters. He’s exhausted and angry, and making petty digs at Lucretia may not make him feel better but it is at least familiar ground.

Her expression sharpens. “No, that’s  _ not _ what I mean. I am anxious to bring her home too, we all are. That’s why I let you come out here in the first place.”

“You didn’t  _ let  _ me do anything, I never needed your permission.”

“All right, well!” Merle interjects, putting a hand on the small of Taako’s back. It’s the closest to Taako’s shoulder that he can reach. “What matters is we’re here, and we’re all on the same team.”

Lucretia sighs, and her shoulders relax marginally. “Yes. Merle is right. Come, let’s debrief over some coffee and tea.” Sloane tactfully slips away, leaving them to their own business while they gather in the kitchen. They’ve been friendly with Sloane and Hurley for years, but the couple operate on a strict “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy with the trio’s comings and goings. Underground street racing is enough crime for them.

Once everyone has acquired their choice of hot beverages, they sit at the small dining table in the kitchen. Lucretia stands at the head of the table and folds her arms across her chest. "All right, what happened out there?"

“We got in okay and found Marvy, but this dude in a fancy suit showed up,” Magnus explains. “Everything went to shit after that.”

“Yeah, I think he was after Taako. And then we fought off a bunch of Marvy’s goons and ran like hell.”

Lucretia frowns. “Were you able to get any useful information about Lup’s whereabouts?”

“Not a thing.” Taako stares bitterly into his own tea. “She’s been here before, but it’s been weeks since she was around last.”

“And you don’t know who this other man is or what he wanted?” Her question is met with muted headshakes, and she sighs and takes a contemplative sip of tea. “Well, I’m glad you all made it out unscathed. I’ll see if I can find out whether someone’s been tracking your movements, Taako, but unfortunately without more information I’m not sure what I can do. If you ever see him again, try to bring him in alive, maybe we can find out who sent him.” Scooting her cup away, she leans forward and places her hands on the table. “In the meantime, a new contract has come through my channels.”

“Another job already?” Merle groans. “No rest for the wicked.”

Lucretia ignores his bellyaching as she plunges ahead. “This one’s going to be a little trickier than the last one. The target’s name is Curtis Prichard. He’s a corporate bigwig, and there will be some tight security measures to work through. He cycles through a couple different mistresses whenever his wife is out of town, so we’ve been able to get some insight into his habits and routines from them.” She produces a notebook from her bag lying nearby and gives them several pages of notes in her neat, cramped handwriting. A comprehensive summary of the intel she’s already been able to collect, without risking any electronic records or paper trails. She also gives them three tickets for a round trip to Rockport.

“The client requested that it not look like murder; they want this to raise as few eyebrows as possible, so please for the love of the gods, discretion will be key.” She steeples her fingers, almost a silent prayer for any god who may be listening, and looks at each of them expectantly.

“Oh, okay,” Merle resigns.

“Of course,” Magnus promises.

“Whatever,” Taako sighs.

She stays silent for a few extra seconds to impress upon them her seriousness, and then nods. “Good. You leave in twelve hours.” 

There’s little left to discuss after that, except who should make breakfast and whether they should have pancakes or scrambled eggs. Hurley and Sloane meander in to join them once the smell of frying batter permeates the rest of the house. “Didn’t you guys just eat?” Sloane asks wryly as she reaches for the platter of scrambled eggs Merle has filled.

“That wasn’t breakfast though. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Magnus clarifies as he wields a spatula over a griddle of pancakes. Lucretia, refilling her mug for more tea, nods sagely.

They all eat an abundant breakfast together, then Magnus, Merle, and Taako pack up once again. Their lives rarely keep them in one place for long, always running from one job and into another, resting in their unofficial base of operations just outside Haverdale only when the flow of contracts allows for a little downtime in the closest place they have to a home. Taako's never been one for sitting around and twiddling his thumbs for very long, anyway.

Lucretia, still hanging back to assist in cleanup, sees them off at the door as they leave. “This isn’t over,” she promises, “Looking into the Hammerheads' connections to Lup is my next priority, and I will have next steps for you as soon as possible.” Her eyes settle on Taako as she says this, eyebrows slanting in sympathy. He bears it with a tight-lipped smile but says nothing.

Fortunately, her attention is disrupted when Magnus opens his arms for a hug, and she expertly deflects it and insists they hurry along or they’ll miss their train. With their time for good-byes run out, the three of them set off.

According to Lucretia’s sources, their target has a habit of staying at the office late, especially when he’s avoiding his wife right after she returns from a business trip. Taako likes when the target is an asshole, makes the job that much more satisfying. They only have to track her movement for a little over a week before they reach a Thursday she’s coming home, and by then they’ve had all the time they need to plan around the building’s security. Taako trails an employee to a bar one night, gets a little handsy in his flirting, and bingo, they have a keycard.

That just leaves the cameras and the security guard. The after-hours guard spends most of the night in the control room, and for any other job they could just bust in and take him out before he has a chance to sound the alarm. That won’t work this time around. One of Lucretia’s friends named Lucas is handy with computers, and he swears he’ll be able to hack into the cameras’ network and put the feeds on a loop of empty rooms. They’ll find out quickly enough if it doesn’t work.

Rock-paper-scissors determines Merle is on lookout duty. On Thursday at eight o’clock, he posts up on the roof of the taller building next door, where he’ll have a view of both the main entry and the back door. He waves down at Taako and Magnus as they cross the parking lot and swipe their stolen keycard.

The foyer contains a big polished reception desk and a bank of elevators tucked against the side. They take the stairs to avoid the noise of the elevator alerting the security -- Lucas’ hacking capability won’t stop them from hearing strange noises.

Their target’s office is on the twelfth and topmost floor. Taako reaches for his wand and starts pulling together a levitation spell in his mind, because fuck this many stairs, but Magnus nudges him with an elbow and shakes his head. “Discretion.” Taako groans and lets go of his wand. A stairwell with virtually no ventilation could hold the aftersmell of magic for hours. “It’s not a big deal to me, because  _ I  _ never skip leg day.” And with that, Magnus launches up the stairs.

“Muscle-bound freak,” Taako grumbles under his breath, and trudges up several flights behind.

He’s panting by the time he catches up to Magnus, a stitch tugging at his side. He plants a hand on the wall and bends over, gasping to catch his breath. “I could help you put together an exercise routine,” Magnus offers, “You should really be in better shape. Plus, having better core and leg strength can make sex better.”

Taako snorts and raises a middle finger at him. “When ol’ Taako starts getting laid again, maybe I’ll take you up on the offer.” Magnus gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, then eases open the stairwell door into the twelfth floor.

They enter a landing with patterned carpet where the stairwell faces the elevators. It splits into a hallway with a glass door on each end and restrooms between. The door on the right opens into a big office space, low-walled cubicles occupying most of the central space and windows lining the northern and eastern walls. About one-third of the fluorescent lights are still on, just enough for a person to navigate the office without tripping over an occasional stray cord or running into potted plants.

Through the office and past a couple conference rooms, they find a smaller room with a reception desk that guards a door with "Curtis Prichard" across the front. Magnus creeps up to it and presses his ear against the wood, then makes eye contact with Taako and inclines his head just slightly. He’s inside.

On a silent countdown, Taako pulls out his little handgun as Magnus throws the door open.

The man inside leans against the back of an antique mahogany desk, his own weapon rising to greet them. Magnus slams the door shut, they both dive to the side, a gunshot explodes through the wood and showers splinters over them.

Taako’s stomach petrifies with cold shock. The split-second glimpse he got was enough. Expensive suit, dreads pulled up out of his face, predatory smile. It’s the stranger from Goldcliff. This was a setup.

“Fuck!" Magnus blurts. They rush to get out of direct line of sight just in time, before the door slams open and the stranger strides out with his gun and his open hand both held out in front of him. He ducks behind the reception desk for cover.

Magnus peers around the corner and flinches back when he nearly gets a faceful of lead. He glances at Taako, points, and makes a series of gestures with his hand.

"What the shit?” Taako hisses.

Magnus sighs and whispers, “There’s a fire escape in the other room. See if you can get in from another floor and we can flank him.”

“How the  _ hell _ was I supposed to get that from--”

“I can hear you, you know,” the stranger calls. “And don’t you think security heard the commotion? Or that I don’t already have the building surrounded? There’s nowhere for you to run, and killing me won’t do you much good.”

“Yeah, fuck discretion,” Taako grumbles, flicking the safety on his gun and retrieving his wand in his other hand. Magic hadn’t worked out so well last time, but now, Taako isn’t concerned with hitting the man. He pulls a sparrow feather out of a small inside pocket. “Cover me.”

Up here, in such an artificial and engineered environment as a modern office building and so disconnected from a natural atmosphere, magic is sluggish and weak to respond to him, but it gathers and builds around him until he has enough for a simple spell. Magnus ducks out to fire half-blind at the reception desk, and Taako crouches beside him, tossing the feather into the air as he aims his wand. The magic bursts out as a gust of wind, a boom of displaced air that throws the heavy desk back. The man hiding behind it yelps out a curse and scrambles to get out of the way.

Magnus tackles him and slams him face-first against the nearest wall. When he reaches for the knife at his hip, the stranger shoves backward and kicks his foot back into Magnus’ knee. He grunts, his grip loosening. It’s enough of an opening for the stranger to spin around, clock him in the jaw, and dive for his dropped gun.

“Hey!” Taako snaps.

His own pistol stares the stranger down without wavering. Both of them freeze, the stranger lying on the ground and glowering up at Magnus. Taako has him dead, no question; he made himself vulnerable going for his weapon, no way to dodge easily and no cover. But he could still probably get a shot off as he died, or even an involuntary muscle twitch as the bullet hit his brain could spell big trouble for Magnus.

They all sit frozen for half a second, Magnus’ eyes flicking between them and the stranger’s heavy breathing the only movement.

Well, might as well take advantage of their stalemate. “What the fuck do you want?” Taako demands.

His sneering gaze settles on Taako. “What I want? What I want is to stop whatever your goddamn boss’ plan is!”

Magnus blinks, bemused. “Lucretia?”

Whoever this stranger is, he’s easily riled. Despite his compromised position, he dares to lower his gun for a second to sit up straighter and glare at Magnus. “No, the Avarice!”

Something clicks together in Taako’s brain, a series of if-thens snapping in line. “You haven’t been following me,” he realizes aloud, “You’ve been trying to follow Lup.”

“Yeah, we don’t work for the Avarice, buddy,” Magnus chimes in.

The stranger eyes both of them, calculating whether to believe them or not. He must come to a decision, and from the way he groans, he isn’t pleased about it. “Okay, fine, so who’s this Lup?”

“My sister, who you’re not going to touch,” Taako says icily.

“Oh-ho-ho, I think you’re mistaken about that. Even if  _ I  _ don’t, the Order will just send someone else.” The stranger glances between them, most of the aggression draining out of his bloody eyes. “Look, if you really aren’t working for the Avarice, I have no interest in killing you. If I put my weapon away, will you do the same with yours?”

Magnus and Taako exchange a glance, then Taako puts his gun and wand away, and Magnus takes a few steps back. The stranger holsters his gun and climbs to his feet, brushing himself off and fussing over the wrinkles in his slacks. “Right. Thank you.”

Letting a man who’s trying to murder his sister go free seems like the worst possible idea, especially one with so much power and so many resources. He tracked them down and trapped them this quickly, how long would it take him to catch up to Lup now that he knows who he’s looking for?

Probably not long at all. Taako’s mind races. “If I can get Lup to fuck off from the Avarice, do you have to hurt her?”

Magnus already sees where this is going, judging from the concern in his eyes. “Taako…”

The stranger watches him passively and shrugs. “All I care about is stopping the Avarice. If she isn’t helping them anymore, I have no business with her.”

“Then I’ll help you find her.”

“Taako!” Magnus objects.

“I know her better than anyone else. I know the way she works, the way she thinks.” Taako forges ahead without pause, ignoring Magnus, his eyes fixed on the stranger. “I  _ will _ be able to find her with you, and stop her.”

He regards Taako with a long look. “Fine. But if for one moment I think you aren’t helping me anymore, you know I can’t just let you go, right?”

Taako’s grin is fierce and humorless. “Of course, handsome, right back at you.”

Magnus hunches a little to murmur to him, “Taako, you don’t have to do this, we’ve been getting close.”

“Not close enough.” Taako shakes his head and side-steps away from Magnus, moving toward the suited man. “I’m sorry, Magnus, I have to. I have to find Lup.”

Magnus presses his lips in a grim smile. “Okay.”

“Well, if you’re coming or not, I’m leaving. My backup will be storming the building any minute if I don’t let them know I’m alive, so don’t try anything before we’re gone.” The stranger levels a distrustful look at Magnus, gives his suit jacket one last tug with an air of finality, and sets out toward the elevator bay.

“Just be careful,” Magnus says quietly as Taako passes him. Taako nods once. They don’t say anything else in parting; they don’t need to. Magnus will explain everything to Merle, and the two of them will defend Taako’s decision to Lucretia and the rest. There’s a sense of inevitability to this that the three of them will roll with in the same way they roll with every punch -- as long as they trust each other, they’ll probably make it out the other end okay.

Taako hustles to catch up. “So, you got a name?” He falls into step beside him, quickening his feet to keep up with the other’s long-legged strides.

“Kravitz,” he says, dry and inflectionless, uninterested in a more elaborate introduction.

“I’m Taako,” Taako volunteers, even though Kravitz doesn’t ask. Kravitz spares him only the briefest side glance in acknowledgment while they stand waiting for the elevator. So that’s how this is going to be, then. Well, Taako can play that game too, and he is as competitive as he is petty. “So the Avarice have really got you peaved, huh? How’d they manage to shove such a big stick up your ass?”

The corner of Kravitz’s eye twitches. “Do you ever shut up?” The elevator door slides open a moment later, and he grimaces before stepping inside. Taako swallows laughter and joins him.

“Just figure we should know each other a little better, seeing as how we’re working together and all, partner.” Taako couldn’t care less about Kravitz’s motives. He’d been hellbent on hurting Lup, and definitely still would if he thought he needed to. That alone gives Taako reason to hate him. But gaining a little insight into any exploitable weaknesses couldn’t hurt, just in case. With the added bonus of pissing him off for the hell of it.

The latter is most definitely working. Kravitz curls his lips into a sneer as he responds, “That’s definitely not how this works, and we aren’t partners. Let me be very clear,  _ Taako _ , I could still shoot you whenever I damn well please, but right now you just happen to be useful to me. As a  _ tool _ .” He spits Taako’s name like the very word tastes bitter on his tongue.

Taako momentarily forgets his game, a flare of offense rising from his gut. He is nobody’s mere tool, dammit. “Well, fuck you, too.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall of the elevator in a huff.

There’s something refreshing about Kravitz’s impassive disdain, though. For years Taako has been surrounded by pity -- sympathetic looks and delicate words, like Taako is made up of eggshells the moment Lup comes up. He doesn’t need more platitudes about not giving up hope, or empty optimism about how close they’ve gotten in the past. He just needs Lup back, whatever it takes.

The elevator chimes and hisses open to an empty lobby. “Your backup is doing a pretty shitty job,” Taako muses.

"Oh, that. I was bluffing.” Kravitz shrugs off Taako’s “what?!” “You two were obviously caught off-guard already, and it bought me time. I'd say I won that gamble." Taako scoffs, in a rare position of being at a loss for words. Not only is Kravitz an asshole, he’s an utter idiot.

Too late to doubt his decision now, no matter how despicable he finds Kravitz. Taako isn’t one for regrets, and he has a feeling that Kravitz won’t let him just skip off unhindered if he changes his mind, anyway. He’s in this for better or for worse. He’s in this for Lup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading -- come talk to me on [tumblr](https://unaccepted-pylades.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/geckosnack)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> against all odds, Im not dead!
> 
> turns out, working 40 hrs a week and juggling 3 different projects with the rest of my life slows down the writing process significantly

“The Order of the Raven Queen has existed longer than the country of Faerun itself. The Faerun government allows us to serve the Raven Queen more or less unimpeded; most of our leaders have seen that the benefits of our organization outweigh the costs.” Kravitz smiles to himself, a sharp and smug expression. “For centuries we have protected the sanctity and balance of life and death -- the laws of man do not concern us, but the laws of nature. In the past six months we have seen a disturbing increase of necromancy and other such perversions. I traced it back to the Avarice by--hey! Are you listening?”

Taako doesn’t look up from his cell phone. “Uh-huh, totally. Birds, big cosmic forces, necrophilia. What does this have to do with Lup?”

They sit facing each other at a small table outside a nondescript cafe, waiting under the shade of a green and white parasol. Kravitz had insisted on a public, neutral rendezvous spot to reclaim Taako's necessities, which Taako can't blame him for. He still wonders if leaving Kravitz alive is worth the trouble.

The muscles in Kravitz’s jaw flex, chewing back whatever caustic retort rose from his gut. “I was getting to that. The Avarice are definitely involved in the rise in activity, they’re up to something, I just don’t know what. But your sister is at best cleaning up their loose ends, at worst she has been directly overseeing whatever it is their building up to. From what I’ve seen, I’m inclined to believe the latter.”

“So you think my sister is what, trying to raise an undead army?” Taako blows a raspberry. That doesn’t exactly sound like her style. She’s more of a do-it-yourself kind of gal, she wouldn’t want a bunch of mindless lackeys doing all the hard work.

“I never said they were raising an undead army." Kravitz glares, clearly frustrated that Taako isn't taking his generous share of information seriously, but he soldiers stubbornly on. "From what I’ve gathered, the Avarice’s interest in the arcane and especially in necromancy is a new development for them. Not even ten years ago they were just another drug cartel and black market supplier. Do you know why your sister is working with them now? Maybe if I knew what drew her to them, what she has to gain--”

“She’s not like that,” Taako snaps. “She doesn’t have some evil plan, she doesn’t have anything to get out of it, she just… She was just trying to fix a problem that wasn’t hers to fix. Look, that’s got nothing to do with it, okay?”

Fortunately, he spots Magnus’ head towering over anyone else from a ways away, and he leaps to his feet to wave him over before Kravitz can try to harass more information out of him. Merle trots along beside as Magnus raises an arm in response, and they both hurry in Taako's direction. The joy and relief gleaming in Magnus’s eyes fade as he sees Kravitz turning to look at him as well, his face turning stony and guarded.

“Taako!” Merle cries once they’re close enough for him to throw an arm around Taako’s waist in a brief hug. “Magnus told me everything. I’m glad you’re okay.” He cuts a glance in Kravitz’s direction.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Taako brushes him off, wriggling out of Merle’s embrace and reaching for the duffel bag slung across his shoulder and over his back. “Just give me my shit.” Merle obliges, handing over the bag.

Magnus drags a suitcase behind him and parks it next to Taako. “Is this really all you need?” he asks, his tone heavy with another, unspoken question.

“It’s all we have time for, thank you,” Kravitz interrupts snippily, his nose upturned. Magnus scowls at him.

“This is enough.” Taako pats the bag as he hefts its strap onto his shoulder. It bulges at its limits, as usual when he packs it. His clothes, makeup, notebooks, and spell materials are all contained within the two bags, all he’s ever able to carry along with him on the road. It feels like so little in comparison to the loss of Magnus and Merle at his side.

Kravitz shuffles a step away and looks at him impatiently. Taako ignores him. "Trust me," he insists. "I've got this." He doesn't do hugs. Instead, he lifts his hand and makes a fist. "Just try to stay alive without me there to save your dumb asses."

Magnus smiles, not quite as big as usual, as he bumps his knuckles against Taako’s. “Good luck.”

Solemnly, Merle joins his fist to theirs. “We’ll be waiting. Bring her home soon.”

The three of them linger for just long enough to seal a promise between them they don’t have to put into words, then Taako readjusts his duffel's strap, grabs his suitcase, and turns to follow Kravitz. “Ciao!” Taako calls over his shoulder, and after that, he doesn’t look back.

Kravitz lengthens his stride just enough so Taako has to hustle to keep up, which is most certainly deliberate. “Now, this wild goose chase you’ve sent me on has jeopardized months of work if we lose the trail. I will give you access to the research I’ve gathered from Goldcliff, hopefully you’ll be able to find a pattern that will get us back on track.”

“Of course I will.” Taako’s skillset may be limited, but the one thing he knows he excels at is understanding his sister. All he’s really been lacking is the resources that Kravitz can, supposedly, provide.

Kravitz leads him to his rental car, parked around the corner so Magnus and Merle wouldn’t be able to identify it -- a precaution that Taako had mocked him for excessively at the time. Taako piles his belongings into the trunk and leaves them there when they arrive at Kravitz’s hotel.

The hotel sprawls over a whole street block, the hotel chain's logo emblazoned on the white brick. “Come with me,” Kravitz demands, the first words he’s spoken to Taako since they got in the car.

Taako whistles low as he climbs out of the car and follows Kravitz to the elevator out of the hotel’s underground parking lot. “Geez, at least buy an elf dinner first.”

Kravitz wrinkles his nose. “Oh, you wish. I just don’t trust you alone with a rental.” Taako scoffs, affronted.

The interior is lush with polished wood paneling and dark red carpets, classy without any charm or character. Taako hates it for how forgettable and generic it is, a dressed-up carbon copy of hundreds of other hotels around the world. They ride the elevator to the fifth floor. A Do Not Disturb sign hangs on a door halfway down the hall, which Kravitz leaves in place as he slides his keycard and lets them in. 

Taako has lived out of enough hotel rooms to recognize the room as a basic, unremarkable one at its core -- beige walls, landscape art, a recliner in the corner. The usual flatscreen across from the bed has been unplugged and set aside on the floor and the entertainment center converted into a cluttered desk. On the wall, sticky notes, newspaper clippings, and photographs hang in something that could resemble a pattern, one which Taako couldn’t begin to guess at.

“Dude, this looks like a serial killer’s room. Are you actually a serial killer?”

Kravitz snorts. “Says the hired assassin,” he mutters, producing a laptop from a bag and setting it on top of the scattered contents of a file folder.

“It’s a living.” Taako shrugs and steps closer to nose through the contents of the wall. “Is all of this from the Avarice?”

“From the correspondence and history on the Hammerheads’ recovered computer, yes. But their activity has been so scattered recently, it’s a lot to sort through. It only gets more complicated when there are ripple effects. If they smuggle materials or resources to one amateur necromancer, then raising one undead being can cause all sorts of unintended consequences in local magic systems, weaken barriers between the material and astral planes, and so on, but that’s not much of a viable lead. There's no knowing if it's part of the bigger picture or just… business as usual."

A headline near the edges of Kravtiz’s creepy stalker moodboard catches Taako’s attention, and he tears the article off the wall to read its tiny print. “This one.” He holds it out to Kravitz. “This one is definitely my girl.”

Kravitz takes it and nods, though his brow furrows as he looks at it. “How do you know?” The article describes a necromantic attack on a governmental office, with five confirmed dead and dozens of injuries. Shortly after authorities arrived on the scene, a fire broke out, and all of the suspects escaped. It doesn’t provide many details on how necromancy was involved or how the investigation is going to proceed.

“Fire is kind of her jam.” Taako hovers close to Kravitz’s elbow to reach over him and point at notable details in the article, though Kravitz elbows him away. “Plus, one of our hits worked there. That’s what led us to Goldcliff in the first place, he said he’d been working with the Avarice. He’d been trading some information with them.”

“Huh.” Kravitz looks at the text for a moment longer before folding it over twice and slipping it into his front pocket. “So it’s back to Eversummer, then. We’ll get information from witnesses and try to figure out what the Avarice was doing there, and where they are going next.”

He takes everything down from the wall and collects it into a file folder, which he slips into a briefcase. After he returns the TV to its place, the room barely looks used at all. They check out immediately.

They travel by rail, Kravitz leaving his rental car behind for someone else to deal with. Apparently, they have people for that. They arrive in just an hour and a half and retrieve another rental so exactly alike the last that Taako doubletakes. "You know other cars exist, right?" he asks.

Kravitz scoffs and tilts his chin up. "I know what I like," he says simply. Taako shrugs it off because, begrudgingly, he can respect that.

From the rental facility they drive straight to their destination. It's an office building, a slab of gray concrete erected around the corner from the courthouse, the least interesting place to ever be the site of domestic terrorism.

A security officer stops them just inside the door, but Kravitz fishes a pendant from beneath his shirt and holds it up. “We’re inspecting the recent attack. Can you direct me where the incident happened?”

The guard stares at his symbol, his face paling. “Oh, uh.” He clears his throat and gropes for a walkie talkie strapped to his shoulder. "Hey, Nef? Could you get out here?" After listening to a fuzzy reply, he nods, licks his lips, and says, "Nef will take you back there, just wait here a second."

Kravitz sniffs -- not used to being told to wait, Taako would guess -- and retreats a few paces away from the guard's desk. Taako saunters along with him. "Hey, can I take a look at that?" Kravitz frowns but holds up the pendant again. "No, let me like,  look  look at it."

"Ugh." Kravitz lifts the leather cord up over his head and places it carefully in Taako's waiting palm.

Despite sitting directly on Kravitz's chest all day every day, the stone symbol is cool to the touch. The obsidian is carved into a heptagon and depicts a flying raven with its beak open mid-cry, a cypress branch clutched in its talons. A script Taako half-recognizes as some kind of Celestial variant curls in a circle around the raven, catching light in its swooping letters. His question of how it could convince everyone to cooperate with him so easily dies off as a comforting coolness sweeps through Taako’s mind, asserting its power with a rustle of feathers breathing in his ears.

After lying in Taako’s hand for more than two seconds, the stone suddenly drops in temperature, freezing enough to burn; Taako yelps and reflexively drops it, recoiling his hand close to his chest. Kravitz snatches it out of midair and restores it to its place around his neck. “You could have warned me,” Taako snaps.

Kravitz smirks. “Now, where’s the fun in that?” He smooths down his shirt collar and tie. Taako glares at him.

A dark-skinned aasimar's approach robs Taako of the opportunity to retaliate. They wear a similar uniform to the other guard, and they have intricately braided hair and sharp lines of tension around their eyes. Their gaze scans Kravitz in one sharp sweep and, judging by the stoniness of their face, concludes they are unimpressive; they linger a couple seconds longer on Taako. “Afternoon, I’m Nef. Can I help you?”

“Nef, I’m Kravitz.” The two of them shake hands, and Kravitz once again flashes his emblem. “We need to know about the attack from a few days ago.”

“Oh.” They glance at Taako again, then look back at Kravitz. “Come with me.” They turn on their heel and lead them down the hall they appeared from. “I was doing my rounds on the second floor when the call went out for help downstairs. I called the police and went down there for backup.”

“So you were there?” Kravitz sounds as hopeful as Kravitz probably ever can. 

“Yeah, for all the good I did. There’s not much batons can do against semi-physical undead spirits.” They sigh, leftover frustration expelling all at once. “I managed to get past them just in time to come down here and see these three people. With some kind of magic ritual shit going on.” The door Nef leads them to is marked Designated Personnel Only, and they sweep aside yellow caution tape forming an X across the doorway.

They descend a narrow staircase into a dim, stuffy basement, cluttered with pipes and heavy equipment Taako can only assume is for A/C or water or any other building maintenance he doesn’t care to understand. Their movement disturbs a fine misting of dust that floats on the air and tickles Taako’s nose with every breath. Boxes and pallets and unusable office furniture slump in piles against each other, stored here in the pretense that they would ever be useful again.

Caught within the dust and cobwebs is a sickly scent that turns Taako’s stomach inside out. It’s not the too-fresh burn of most magic, but the sweet musk of decay that sticks to the back of his throat like bile. Kravitz’s frown deepens but otherwise he looks unaffected, so Taako tightens his jaw and swallows against the rising nausea. They turn a corner past the storage area, and if the smell hadn’t done it for him, the sight is definitely enough to inform Taako of what happened here -- and how much worse it could have been.

A diagram stretches over the cement floor, sigils dancing along its angles and curves. Without performing a ritual or reciting an incantation, the power trapped inside it is inert, but nonetheless Taako takes great caution in not crossing any lines as he circles around it. In the very center, the white lines of chalk are stained brown by a few droplets of dried blood. Kravitz swears under his breath.

“One of them had a gun, he shot at me. Probably would have hit if one of the others hadn’t knocked off his aim.” Nef hovers close to the exit, ready to bolt like the diagram might reactivate at any second. “Then they started a fire, like nothing I’ve ever seen. All the way up to the ceiling, all along here.” They point to the floor at a white char two feet thick at its widest point, stretching all the way from one wall to the other.

“She looked like me, didn’t she?” Taako guesses. “The one who saved you.” Nef nods slowly. He crouches next to the diagram, recognizing now the subtle signs of Lup’s characteristic flare, extra connections and runes just for the complicated aesthetic of it. Ice seeps through his stomach; Lup wasn’t just here, she was the one who performed the ritual. 

Focus. He just needs to focus on what’s in front of him. “This wasn’t a controlled summons,” he points out. “They just… poked a hole and let whoever wanted come through.”

“If they weren’t trying to raise a specific undead or target someone in particular, then what mattered was the location.” Kravitz leans closer to study the spell at a more respectful distance and take a few pictures with his phone. “Do you know the significance of this place?”

Taako arches his eyebrows. “Uh, don’t you? Aren’t you the necromancy cop?”

“I’m not a--” Kravitz hisses a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, then waves his hand in a ‘forget it’ gesture. “No, I don’t.”

“Psh, some people are so useless at their jobs,” Taako mutters, as he reaches for the diagram. If he’s lucky, maybe he can pull some helpful information from the latent energy still lying just beneath its surface.

As soon as he touches the chalk lines, his ears start to ring, and he freezes in place. 

After a fraction of a second the ringing clarifies into a voice calling, “Taako!” He doesn’t hear himself gasp, but feels his chest swell with pressure. “It's me, Lup.” As if he wouldn’t recognize the cadence of her words echoing in his head, like she isn’t a presence in his thoughts every day. "Take these coordinates." She rattles off a bewildering series of numbers before concluding, "Today’s August 23. We’re heading there in six days.” Her voice cuts off without so much as a good-bye, leaving a buzz that itches inside his ears to signal the end of the message.

He refocuses on the real world just to hear Kravitz snapping, "Taako? Hey!"

"Yeah, hi, just had to check the ol’ mystical inbox." Taako rises slowly, knees stiff from kneeling on the cement floor. Kravitz stares at him, incredulous.

“Got a pen and paper?” Despite his scowl, Kravitz pats himself down until he produces a pen and a pocket notebook, from which he tears a single page. Taako scratches the coordinates down before they can fade from his memory. “We need to figure out where this is.” They don't have any time to spare; her deadline is the next day, and she could be sending them halfway around the world for all he knows.

Kravitz looks at it, his frown of irritation becoming one more thoughtful. “Is this latitude and longitude?” The grooves of concentration in his brow deepen with Taako’s affirmation. “Okay. I think we’ve gotten everything we can here.” He folds the notebook page and tucks it into his pocket.

Nef escorts them back upstairs, this time taking up the rear so they can keep an eye on both of them. They look a little more shaken than before; Taako doesn't know how much of his and Kravitz's conversation they would understand without context, but it couldn't have sounded good. But they remain cool and professional as the three of them return to the security desk and Nef gives them a curt nod farewell before leaving them.

Taako and Kravitz don’t speak until they are out of the building and no longer under any direct surveillance. “She hid a message spell inside the summoning circle.” How she’d been able to make it respond to him specifically, though, he has no idea.

“I don’t suppose she said anything about why we need to go here? Or what to expect when we get there?” Kravitz’s tone is dry with skepticism. “I’m not exactly eager to follow an Avarice assassin’s directions without a little more information.”

Taako purses his lips. “She’s not just some Avarice assassin, she’s my  fucking sister . If she wants me to be there, I'll be there."

"Ugh." Kravitz glares down at his phone screen. "You're lucky it's only a couple miles outside the city." 

Taako swells with hope. Finally, maybe, he's found one of her little breadcrumbs before it's too late. "Then that's where we go next."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading -- come talk to me on [tumblr](https://unaccepted-pylades.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/geckosnack)!


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